Hamlet by William Shakespeare

Act 4 - Scene 5

Elsinore. A room in the Castle.

Gertrude : I will not speak with her.

Gentleman : She is importunate, indeed distract. [p]Her mood will needs be
pitied.

Gertrude : What would she have?

Gentleman : She speaks much of her father; says she hears [p]There's tricks i' th'
world, and hems, and beats her heart; [p]Spurns enviously at straws;
speaks things in doubt, [p]That carry but half sense. Her speech is
nothing, [p]Yet the unshaped use of it doth move [p]The hearers to
collection; they aim at it, [p]And botch the words up fit to their own
thoughts; [p]Which, as her winks and nods and gestures yield
them, [p]Indeed would make one think there might be thought, [p]Though
nothing sure, yet much unhappily.

Horatio : 'Twere good she were spoken with; for she may strew [p]Dangerous
conjectures in ill-breeding minds.

Gertrude : Let her come in. [p][Exit Gentleman.] [p][Aside] To my sick soul (as
sin's true nature is) [p]Each toy seems Prologue to some great
amiss. [p]So full of artless jealousy is guilt [p]It spills itself in
fearing to be spilt.

Ophelia : Where is the beauteous Majesty of Denmark?

Gertrude : How now, Ophelia?

Ophelia : [sings] [p] How should I your true-love know [p] From another
one? [p] By his cockle bat and' staff [p] And his sandal
shoon.

Gertrude : Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song?

Ophelia : Say you? Nay, pray You mark. [p](Sings) He is dead and gone, lady,
[p] He is dead and gone; [p] At his head a grass-green
turf, [p] At his heels a stone. [p]O, ho!

Gertrude : Nay, but Ophelia-

Ophelia : Pray you mark. [p](Sings) White his shroud as the mountain snow-

Gertrude : Alas, look here, my lord!

Ophelia : [Sings] [p] Larded all with sweet flowers; [p] Which bewept to
the grave did not go [p] With true-love showers.

Claudius : How do you, pretty lady?

Ophelia : Well, God dild you! They say the owl was a baker's daughter. [p]Lord,
we know what we are, but know not what we may be. God be at [p]your
table!

Claudius : Conceit upon her father.

Ophelia : Pray let's have no words of this; but when they ask, you what [p]it
means, say you this: [p](Sings) To-morrow is Saint Valentine's
day, [p] All in the morning bedtime, [p] And I a maid at
your window, [p] To be your Valentine. [p] Then up he
rose and donn'd his clo'es [p] And dupp'd the chamber
door, [p] Let in the maid, that out a maid [p] Never
departed more.

Claudius : Pretty Ophelia!

Ophelia : Indeed, la, without an oath, I'll make an end on't! [p][Sings] By Gis
and by Saint Charity, [p] Alack, and fie for shame! [p]
Young men will do't if they come to't [p] By Cock, they are to
blame. [p] Quoth she, 'Before you tumbled me, [p] You
promis'd me to wed.' [p]He answers: [p] 'So would I 'a' done, by
yonder sun, [p] An thou hadst not come to my bed.'

Claudius : How long hath she been thus?

Ophelia : I hope all will be well. We must be patient; but I cannot [p]choose
but weep to think they would lay him i' th' cold ground. [p]My brother
shall know of it; and so I thank you for your good [p]counsel. Come,
my coach! Good night, ladies. Good night, sweet [p]ladies. Good night,
good night. Exit

Claudius : Follow her close; give her good watch, I pray you. [p][Exit
Horatio.] [p]O, this is the poison of deep grief; it springs [p]All
from her father's death. O Gertrude, Gertrude, [p]When sorrows come,
they come not single spies. [p]But in battalions! First, her father
slain; [p]Next, your son gone, and he most violent author [p]Of his
own just remove; the people muddied, [p]Thick and and unwholesome in
their thoughts and whispers [p]For good Polonius' death, and we have
done but greenly [p]In hugger-mugger to inter him; poor
Ophelia [p]Divided from herself and her fair judgment, [p]Without the
which we are pictures or mere beasts; [p]Last, and as much containing
as all these, [p]Her brother is in secret come from France; [p]And
wants not buzzers to infect his ear [p]Feeds on his wonder, keep,
himself in clouds, [p]With pestilent speeches of his father's
death, [p]Wherein necessity, of matter beggar'd, [p]Will nothing stick
our person to arraign [p]In ear and ear. O my dear Gertrude,
this, [p]Like to a murd'ring piece, in many places [p]Give me
superfluous death. A noise within.

Gertrude : Alack, what noise is this?

Claudius : Where are my Switzers? Let them guard the door. [p][Enter a
Messenger.] [p]What is the matter?

Messenger : Save Yourself, my lord: [p]The ocean, overpeering of his list, [p]Eats
not the flats with more impetuous haste [p]Than Young Laertes, in a
riotous head, [p]O'erbears Your offices. The rabble call him
lord; [p]And, as the world were now but to begin, [p]Antiquity forgot,
custom not known, [p]The ratifiers and props of every word, [p]They
cry 'Choose we! Laertes shall be king!' [p]Caps, hands, and tongues
applaud it to the clouds, [p]'Laertes shall be king! Laertes king!'

Gertrude : How cheerfully on the false trail they cry! [p]O, this is counter,
you false Danish dogs!

Claudius : The doors are broke.

Laertes : Where is this king?- Sirs, staid you all without.

All : No, let's come in!

Laertes : I pray you give me leave.

All : We will, we will!

Laertes : I thank you. Keep the door. [Exeunt his Followers.] [p]O thou vile
king, [p]Give me my father!

Gertrude : Calmly, good Laertes.

Laertes : That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me bastard; [p]Cries cuckold
to my father; brands the harlot [p]Even here between the chaste
unsmirched brows [p]Of my true mother.

Claudius : What is the cause, Laertes, [p]That thy rebellion looks so
giantlike? [p]Let him go, Gertrude. Do not fear our person.
[p]There's such divinity doth hedge a king [p]That treason can but
peep to what it would, [p]Acts little of his will. Tell me,
Laertes, [p]Why thou art thus incens'd. Let him go,
Gertrude. [p]Speak, man.

Laertes : Where is my father?

Claudius : Dead.

Gertrude : But not by him!

Claudius : Let him demand his fill.

Laertes : How came he dead? I'll not be juggled with: [p]To hell, allegiance!
vows, to the blackest devil [p]Conscience and grace, to the
profoundest pit! [p]I dare damnation. To this point I stand, [p]That
both the world, I give to negligence, [p]Let come what comes; only
I'll be reveng'd [p]Most throughly for my father.

Claudius : Who shall stay you?

Laertes : My will, not all the world! [p]And for my means, I'll husband them so
well [p]They shall go far with little.

Claudius : Good Laertes, [p]If you desire to know the certainty [p]Of your dear
father's death, is't writ in your revenge [p]That sweepstake you will
draw both friend and foe, [p]Winner and loser?

Laertes : None but his enemies.

Claudius : Will you know them then?

Laertes : To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms [p]And, like the kind
life-rend'ring pelican, [p]Repast them with my blood.

Claudius : Why, now You speak [p]Like a good child and a true gentleman. [p]That
I am guiltless of your father's death, [p]And am most sensibly in
grief for it, [p]It shall as level to your judgment pierce [p]As day
does to your eye.

Laertes : How now? What noise is that? [p][Enter Ophelia. ] [p]O heat, dry up my
brains! Tears seven times salt [p]Burn out the sense and virtue of
mine eye! [p]By heaven, thy madness shall be paid by weight [p]Till
our scale turn the beam. O rose of May! [p]Dear maid, kind sister,
sweet Ophelia! [p]O heavens! is't possible a young maid's
wits [p]Should be as mortal as an old man's life? [p]Nature is fine in
love, and where 'tis fine, [p]It sends some precious instance of
itself [p]After the thing it loves.

Ophelia : [sings] [p] They bore him barefac'd on the bier [p] (Hey non
nony, nony, hey nony) [p] And in his grave rain'd many a
tear. [p]Fare you well, my dove!

Laertes : Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade revenge, [p]It could not move
thus.

Ophelia : You must sing 'A-down a-down, and you call him a-down-a.' O, [p]how
the wheel becomes it! It is the false steward, that stole
his [p]master's daughter.

Laertes : This nothing's more than matter.

Ophelia : There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. Pray you, love, [p]remember.
And there is pansies, that's for thoughts.

Laertes : A document in madness! Thoughts and remembrance fitted.

Ophelia : There's fennel for you, and columbines. There's rue for you, [p]and
here's some for me. We may call it herb of grace o' Sundays. [p]O, you
must wear your rue with a difference! There's a daisy. I [p]would give
you some violets, but they wither'd all when my father [p]died. They
say he made a good end. [p][Sings] For bonny sweet Robin is all my
joy.

Laertes : Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself, [p]She turns to favour
and to prettiness.

Ophelia : [sings] [p] And will he not come again? [p] And will he not come
again? [p] No, no, he is dead; [p] Go to thy deathbed; [p]
He never will come again. [p] His beard was as white as snow, [p]
All flaxen was his poll. [p] He is gone, he is gone, [p]
And we cast away moan. [p] God 'a'mercy on his soul! [p]And of all
Christian souls, I pray God. God b' wi' you.

Laertes : Do you see this, O God?

Claudius : Laertes, I must commune with your grief, [p]Or you deny me right. Go
but apart, [p]Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will, [p]And
they shall hear and judge 'twixt you and me. [p]If by direct or by
collateral hand [p]They find us touch'd, we will our kingdom
give, [p]Our crown, our life, and all that we call ours, [p]To you in
satisfaction; but if not, [p]Be you content to lend your patience to
us, [p]And we shall jointly labour with your soul [p]To give it due
content.

Laertes : Let this be so. [p]His means of death, his obscure funeral- [p]No
trophy, sword, nor hatchment o'er his bones, [p]No noble rite nor
formal ostentation,- [p]Cry to be heard, as 'twere from heaven to
earth, [p]That I must call't in question.

Claudius : So you shall; [p]And where th' offence is let the great axe fall. [p]I
pray you go with me.

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